


Three Birthdays

by ShayneyL



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Baseball, Birthday, Ficlet, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 12:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShayneyL/pseuds/ShayneyL
Summary: Three birthdays in the Delta Quadrant.





	Three Birthdays

**Author's Note:**

> Actually not about Janeway's birthday, but the prompt said any birthdays are okay. 🎂

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

****  
_2371_  


        "Jenny and Megan want to start a birthday club," Tom said. He poked at the purple mush on his plate, Neelix's special of the day.

        "What's a birthday club?" Harry had chosen the yellow stringy stuff instead, and was regretting it. The purple mush couldn't be worse...could it? 

        "Everyone puts in one replicator ration. Used to provide a cake and stuff for each person's birthday. You interested?"

        "No," Harry said. "I'm over 21. Birthdays don't matter any more." 

        "How much over 21? A week? Two?"

        "Hilarious. None of your business." He was actually almost 22. Not that he was going to tell Tom that. 

        "Come on, Harry. I heard even the Captain's joining," Tom said. "Twenty-one was a long time ago for her."

        Harry considered. "You think I should?"

        "Do what you want, Harry. You're fraternizing with a convicted traitor, against the advice of senior officers. Joining or not joining a birthday club is nothing compared to that."

        Harry rolled his eyes. He knew Tom worried that their friendship would hurt Harry's career. Harry didn't. Tom was pretty well accepted by the crew now, Maquis and Starfleet, even if he didn't realize it. And even if he weren't, Harry would not abandon him. "In that case, no."

        "So, aren't you even going to tell me when your birthday is?" Tom asked.

        "No," Harry said. "Birthdays are for kids." 

        Tom looked extremely amused. Harry gave him a warning look. He might be the youngest person on the ship, but he wasn't a kid. Tom held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture, then changed the subject.

# # # # # #

        The topic of birthdays didn't come up again, but somehow Tom found out. Harry had almost forgotten it was his birthday...until he found a large, gaily wrapped box in his quarters after shift. He opened it, to find some sort of clothing. 

        "Kim to Paris."

        "Happy birthday, Harry."

        "How'd you find out?" Harry asked. "You looked up my medical records in sickbay, didn't you?"

        "Who, me?" Tom replied, all innocence. Even though he'd only known Tom a few weeks, he already recognized that tone meant Tom was anything but innocent.

        "What is this?" Harry asked. "Pajamas?"

        "I'll be over to explain," Tom said.

        Turned out, it was a baseball uniform. When Tom came over, he was dressed in a similar outfit. He showed Harry how to put on the white and dark blue striped outfit, then led the way to the holodeck.

        Harry had to admit he was intrigued. He loved sports, and he hadn't realized Tom knew that. The man was more perceptive than he let on. 

        "It's a summer sport. I remember you saying you didn't like the cold, so ice hockey and curling were out," Tom was saying. "I think you should be the shortstop. That's traditionally the most athletic position. And you're a little undersized to be a pitcher or outfielder."

        "So, am I Buck Bokai?" Harry asked. Sports history was an interest of his, and he had heard of baseball, even though it hadn't been played professionally for hundreds of years. 

        "Nah," Tom said. "Bokai played in the closing days of baseball. Too depressing. We'll be playing for a 20th century team. I picked the New York Yankees, since you went to Juilliard. That would have been the local team, if baseball existed when you were in high school." He stopped at the door of the holodeck. "Computer, run program Paris-12." 

        They entered the holodeck, to find a beautifully warm, sunny day, and a playing field with impossibly green grass under a sky that shade of blue that was only found on Earth. 

        "Wow," Harry said. It was gorgeous. "Did New York City really look like this in the 20th century?"

        "No," Tom said. "I figured we'd start out slow. This is Legends Field, the spring training home of the Yankees. In Florida. Come on, we'll start out with a pitching machine, then move up to 'live' pitching."

        It was a lot harder to hit a baseball than it looked. Harry soon found himself obsessed, determined to figure it out. It was completely enthralling. Their holodeck time was over far too soon.

        "Thanks, Tom," he said as they headed to the mess hall afterwards. "That's the best birthday present anyone ever gave me."

  


* * *

**_2375_**

        Seven was sitting alone in the mess hall, as was her custom. Harry went to the replicator, placed his order, then went to her table, putting it down front of her. It was an elaborate confection of a cupcake, with a single candle on it. "Happy birthday, Seven," he said. 

        She looked up from the padd she was reading. "You are giving me nutrients?"

        "Well, it's not exactly nutritious, but it is customary for a birthday," Harry said. 

        "Is this a courtship gift?" she asked.

        "What? No," Harry protested. "It's just a friendship thing." He couldn't deny that he had noticed how attractive Seven was. But she had made it clear she wasn't interested, and Harry had decided long ago that they were better off as friends. 

        "Did you give Lt. Torres a cupcake on her birthday?" she asked.

        "Actually, I gave her a box of four," Harry replied. Even though B'Elanna insisted Klingons didn't celebrate birthdays. "Otherwise, Tom would eat it all and she wouldn't get any." 

        "Lt. Paris is very fond of nutrients," Seven said dryly.

        _Nutrients_ wasn't the word he'd use to describe Tom's diet. He pushed the cupcake toward her. "Seven, it's just a friendly gesture, I promise. Birthday gifts are more associated with kids than with courtship." 

        "I remember," Seven said. A brief, unreadable expression crossed her face, making Harry wonder if this had been a mistake.

        But then she dipped a finger in the frosting, tasting it, a surprisingly childlike gesture. "Acceptable," she pronounced, with a small smile.

  


* * *

**_2376_**

        "May I join you?"

        Harry looked up, to find Seven standing there, holding a tray. "Of course," Harry said, surprised. Seven usually preferred to eat alone. 

        She sat across from him. She looked around the mess hall, as if she were concerned that someone would overhear, then said, "You are among the youngest members of the crew."

        "I'm only a few months younger than you are," Harry protested, wondering if he was still going to be "young Ensign Kim" when he was ninety. 

        "I require information," Seven said. "I need to know what an appropriate gift for Naomi Wildman would be. You were more recently a child than most of _Voyager_ 's crew. My own childhood was deficient in such experience."

        Of course it was. Harry's annoyance vanished. He hesitated, not sure what to say. 

        "Her birthday is in two weeks," Seven said. "While she would enjoy a confection, like the one you gave me, Ensign Wildman has requested that her daughter not be given too many sweets. Naomi is very attached to the toy you gave her, so perhaps something along those lines?"

        The Flotter doll, Harry assumed. Yes, Naomi really liked that. Maybe another Flotter character? Though Naomi was growing up fast. A doll might be too young for her at this point.

        "Or an activity," Seven continued. "Naomi Wildman greatly enjoys kadis-kot."

        "I have an idea," Harry said. "Let me talk to Tom."

# # # # # #

        The holodeck door slid open, and Samantha Wildman and her daughter entered. Naomi, dressed in a new baseball uniform, looked around, taking in the playing field, reprogrammed to Little League dimensions, and her favorite crew members. "What is it?" she asked.

        "It's an activity called baseball," Seven said, holding out a bat. 

**Author's Note:**

> So sue me, I like baseball. :-)
> 
> ⚾ ⚾ ⚾ ⚾ ⚾ ⚾


End file.
